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560 pages, Hardcover
First published February 1, 1982
Her jet black eyes sparkled maliciously in the light of the torch she carried…Gnarled blue veins showed plainly in her aged hands as she reached out to lay the torch to the town.
The rotten thatched roofs of the forgotten buildings caught fire quickly, and soon Mheadhoin was ablaze with the flames…she made her way to the cliff at the edge of the village. There she flung her arms wide, palms outstretched toward the night sky, her eerie form silhouetted against the licking orange and yellow of the burning town. Her great cloak flapping wildly about her in the high wind, she stood like an angry, evil raven beating its wings against its prey. Her voice rose to a shrill piercing across the waters of the loch, and the shadowed figures upon the ramparts of the castles froze in terror as they listened.
“Hear me, thou marauders of Bailekair, thou scavengers of Dundereen, thou cowards of Glenkirk, for I, Grizel, in painful lament for the bairn thy foul deed has wrested from my breast, do lay my curse upon ye! The spawn of the devil will walk amongst ye, accursed amongst thy people for another’s sin, the same of which will be his own in the end. Aye, accursed,” Grizel croaked slyly…Then suddenly, as though she had willed it, the flames blazed hotly; the smoke swirled high like a shroud about the harridan. She grinned, and from the wide, gaping hole in her face a high, cackling sound of laughter split the night crazily with its echo, reverberating through the Glen. Then only the remains of charred ashes marked the place where she had stood. Like the village the hag was gone. Only the kirk rose untouched by the fire, its solitary spire glowing red, reflecting the blaze.
‘Twas dark in her dream; the gray mist swirled around her so thickly she could scarcely see; the land through which she traveled appeared strangely twisted and unfamiliar. The steed she rode was coal black and high-strung. Mary could feel the wetness of the beast through the thin arascaid she wore and knew somehow its ebony coat was damp not from the mist but lathered from wild flight. The animal’s sides heaved as she paused and glanced back over one shoulder.
She heard crazy laughter in the darkness , and her heart pounded fiercely with fright. It was still chasing her, the horrible two-headed monster that had been following her for miles. She must get away! She laid her whip upon the stallion’s sides, pressing on frantically. The hooves of the black steed clattered ominously over the rocky terrain, and the mountain toward which she rode loomed forbiddingly in the distance.

